


pedicabo

by epoenine



Series: multa basiorum [2]
Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom!Mercutio, Dirty Talk, Elizabethan, Established Relationship, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, also cocky and flippant!Mercutio, i'd apologize to shakespeare but lbr this is probably what he would have wanted, shakespeare would be so proud, talk of blasphemy, they both take on a role of dominance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 04:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1455535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epoenine/pseuds/epoenine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mercutio made sure to keep his footsteps light as he walked to Benvolio's chamber, careful of the servants hidden in shadows that could watch him through the corridors and find out where it was he went during the nights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pedicabo

**Author's Note:**

> this is probably the best thing i've ever written in my entire life and it took no less than 4 hours of research on the language and if michelangelo was during that time and if i could slip in a catullus 16 reference anyway enjoy thank you for reading

Mercutio made sure to keep his footsteps light as he walked to Benvolio's chamber, careful of the servants hidden in shadows that could watch him through the corridors and find out where it was he went during the nights.

A single knock on the wooden door was all it took for the boy to answer. Benvolio met him with knowing eyes and a small smile as he let Mercutio into his room.

"My lord, once during midday wasn't enough for thee? Am I unsatisfying, leaving thou wishing for more, or is the brave Mercutio a harlot, desperate for my touch?" Benvolio asked, his voice just barely a whisper and his lips drawn into a smirk. The words brought a flush to Mercutio's cheeks, though his prick swelled.

"I would hardly say thou art unsatisfying," Mercutio retorted, mirroring Benvolio's casual, taunting tone. "Though I deny what thou claimeth."

Benvolio tutted, hands coming to rest at Mercutio's hips. "Oh, no. I should hope not. If thou were not a harlot, or mayhap even a wench, who is to say thou would’st be here at all?" His fingers danced along the hem of Mercutio's nightclothes, only to slide underneath the fabric, smoothing along the expanse of Mercutio's stomach. "Who is to say I would get thee like this?" Benvolio brought his lips up to the shell of Mercutio's ear, raising gooseflesh along the skin. "Eager to be taken, to be _sodomized_?"

Mercutio instinctively bucked his hips, arching against Benvolio. Smugly, Benvolio stripped Mercutio from his clothes, as well as his own, and walked them to the bed. Mercutio shivered under Benvolio's nimble fingers, brushing over his bare thighs as he hovered over the boy.

For the first time that night--but certainly not the first time that day, or, for that matter, the first time for the two--Benvolio brought their mouths together, a kiss that left Mercutio gasping. Benvolio tilted his head, gaining better access to learn the contours of Mercutio's mouth, nipping and biting at red lips.

"Prithee," Mercutio said against Benvolio's lips. His voice was low, rough with arousal. "Touch me. It is all that I ask, Benvolio. I want thou to touch me. I _need_ thy hands on me; I crave thy touch."

Benvolio indulged him the moment the plea fell from his lips. His light touches grew firmer over Mercutio's erection, stroking it with a grace that only Benvolio could produce. A moan sounded from the back of Mercutio's throat, low and hoarse, as he thrusted into Benvolio's fist. The dry friction was quickly becoming uncomfortable, but Mercutio could care less.

Benvolio sucked a bruise into the side of Mercutio's neck, scraping his teeth over the mark and drawing a whine from Mercutio in the process. Mercutio's prick, flushed red and curved upwards, was a gorgeous sight for Benvolio to look upon.

Crawling down the bed, Benvolio pressed open-mouthed kisses to whatever skin he could reach, stopping when the trail of fine hair became thicker and coarser. As he stroked Mercutio's cock with a steady rhythm, Benvolio whispered praise into his skin, against his hipbone, a murmur of, "Thou art beautiful, Mercutio, not one of Michelangelo’s works could compare to thee. Thy lips art a rose just before bloom; thine alabaster skin, carved from the finest marble; thy prick of considerably more length than the famous David, fitted perfectly to my palm, hard against my touch--"

Mercutio arched his back, spilling into Benvolio's hand. He panted, running his thumb along Benvolio's cheekbone, looking down at him while Benvolio looked up under dark lashes.

When Benvolio moved upwards, Mercutio was there to meet him halfway with a kiss, lazy and languid. Just to hear the whimpers and small moans Mercutio was letting out, Benvolio let his hand run over Mercutio's half-hard cock.

"Thou _must_ wish to debase me further," Mercutio said, almost dryly, if not for the breathy gasps he let out between the words. Benvolio kissed him again, harder, this time, and grasped his prick firmly, stroking it.

"Thou should’st have not spent thyself so soon," Benvolio stated, just as Mercutio let out a cry, not just pleasure nor just pain, and arched into the touch. Benvolio sped up his hand, taking a few moments to bring Mercutio to full hardness again.

Benvolio reached over, dipping his fingers into the small bowl of oil. As he coated them, he turned back to Mercutio, who eagerly spread his legs. He looked quite obscene, spread before Benvolio, lips bitten red, a mess of come on his stomach, cock standing proudly once again.

Mercutio squirmed as Benvolio let his slick finger rest over Mercutio's entrance. Pressing in just slightly, Mercutio bit out, "Do not _tease_." He was tense, drawn taut as that finger pressed in further. Benvolio thrust his finger inwards, curling it just so.

Thankful for the second finger that accompanied the first, Mercutio let out a moan. Benvolio scissored them, stretching Mercutio open. When Benvolio curled his fingers again, Mercutio gave another cry, and during this time, Benvolio added a third.

Benvolio's hands stilled and he withdrew his fingers, earning a whine from Mercutio. He dipped his fingers back into the oil, this time using it to slick his prick, stroking himself and groaning.

The pressure of his cock against Mercutio was teasing, letting him know what was to come. Mercutio made an impatient sound, thrusting his hips in a silent demand for Benvolio to continue. Benvolio pressed in slowly, savoring the obscene noise Mercutio let out, even though there’s no doubt the servants could hear them now.

Mercutio clenched around him, white knuckles fisted in the sheets. “Oh, God in heaven,” he panted, throwing his head back when Benvolio was fit inside of him. “ _Christ_ , move, Benvolio--” and he did, pulling out to thrust back in, drawing a sound of pleasure out of the boy underneath him.

“By my faith, Mercutio! Blasphemy? How dare thee,” Benvolio chided, though his voice was breathy. Mercutio shuddered, trembling with Benvolio positioned over him. Benvolio set a pace that was not quite brutal but rough all the same, hitting Mercutio’s prostate with every thrust.

The bucking of his hips evened out, and he placed his hand on Mercutio’s hardness, stroking it in time with his thrusts. Mercutio groaned, twisting his fingers in Benvolio’s hair to drag him downwards and into a kiss. It was frantic and desperate, a mess of tongue and teeth, with both boys blindly trying to reach their climax.

“Would’st thee have me spend in thou?” Benvolio asked, pulling back to search Mercutio’s eyes for anything but confirmation.

“God, yes,” Mercutio gasped, his hand tightening in Benvolio’s hair and Benvolio sped his hand up, fucking him in earnest now, making every thrust count.

When Mercutio came, his mouth was open in a wordless shout, a soft, low sound escaping his lungs. Benvolio was only a few moments behind, spilling inside Mercutio, who could feel the stickiness on the inside of his thighs.

Benvolio pulled out, drawing a whimper from Mercutio, who lay boneless on the sheets. Grabbing a wet cloth from the basin beside him, Benvolio wiped Mercutio off as well as himself, pressing kisses to the clean skin.

“Didst thou enjoy it?” Benvolio questioned, quietly. His lips moved against the bare expanse of Mercutio’s chest, which rose and fell with his breathing. The quick beating of his heart could be felt against Benvolio’s cheek.

“With thee above me, an angel gracing me with the light of the heavens, how could I not?” Mercutio responded, breathing a laugh. “N’er have I looked upon someone so fair, Benvolio, I think it wise if we keep thee away from Romeo, or he’ll be lusting after thee, as well. With all of the partners he speaks of, how could he not come to thee after some time, asking for what thou just did?”

Benvolio let a smile makes its way across his rose lips, curving with amusement. He perched his chin on Mercutio’s chest, looking up at him with mischievous eyes. “My dear cousin? I think not,” he said, joining in with Mercutio’s act. Though he was rather serious, coupling made him indolent, almost lethargic. “Thou knowest thou art the only one for me,” he said, setting his head back down, letting his eyes slip shut.

“And thee? Didst thou enjoy it as well?” Mercutio asked, his hand resting in Benvolio’s dark hair, fingers shifting through the curls.

“I’d have not wanted it to be anyone else,” Benvolio replied. “Not this time, or the time before, or next time,” he continued, smirking. “Not even if it was Romeo.”

The hand stilled, tightening to pull Benvolio upwards, gently, for Mercutio to meet him with a kiss, long and loving. When Mercutio pulled back, the golden flecks among his amber eyes were stars.

“Stay the night?” Benvolio prompted, his expression hopeful. Mercutio brought his hand up, running his thumb across the high arch of Benvolio’s cheekbone, just as he did earlier that night.

Mercutio nodded quickly, grinning as he said, “Only if thou would’st have me again in the morning.”

Benvolio, arching forward so that his collarbones formed caverns, pressed his lips against Mercutio’s, firm and chaste. “I’ll have thee again in the morning, once the sun has rose, so it will catch on thy fair hair and turn it golden, cause shadows to form in the hollow of thy throat, where I will press my lips to feel thy pulse against my skin.”

In the morning, when the pale light seeped in through the windows, Benvolio kept his word, having Mercutio once again.

**Author's Note:**

> it would mean so much to me if you left feedback, either here or on my [ tumblr](http://www.prouvairie.tumblr.com/) again thank you for taking your time to read this it means a lot on its own


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